46
Ryan
Ineed to say something now. Something that doesn’t make me sound like a total dick. I’ve started it now, and I have to see it through. I have to tell her why I’m here and I have to do it soon, before my legs decide to take off, running away from the desire that’s been coursing through me ever since I first laid my hands on her skin, felt her heat.
“Why are you here, Ryan?” Christine reads my mind – or maybe she’s just reading what’s written in block capitals across my forehead. She does it simply, clear and direct, just as she always is. She doesn’t make excuses, doesn’t play games. I’m the one who’s always bullshitting around, instead of just taking her hand and telling her…
“I wanted to be with you.”
Fuck, I actually said it.
“Are you trying to get me into bed?”
So direct again. She’ll eat me alive, I know she will: she’ll swallow everything whole then tear me to pieces.
“I don’t give a fuck about getting you in bed, Christine…” I tell her, massacring my own pride. “I’d even be happy to do it on the floor.”
Her expression changes, flushing every possible shade of red.
“I saw you in the crowd,” I continue, gathering all my courage. “And when I saw you there…I didn’t want to do anything but win that game, then come here with you.”
She smiles, cheekily. “So seeing me up there turned you on?” she teases.
And fuck – I like it.
I like the way she does it, and I like the effect it has on me.
“If you want to put it like that…” I say, approaching her across the sofa – and she doesn’t back away. She stays there, her legs crossed, waiting for me to embarrass myself while I try to explain to her that I really fucking like her. And I want her, like I never thought I could want anyone again in my life.
“It wasn’t just at the match. It’s…everything, Christine.”
“Everything?”
“Everything,” I repeat, hoping that she knows what I mean – because I have no idea how to explain it.
But my body does.
She nibbles at her lip and I grab her instinctively by the waist and pull her towards me. She lifts herself and sits down right onto my erection.
Oh, my God.
Her breath is on my lips, her hands running through my hair. My hands are squeezing her buttocks – my obsession since the very first day I laid eyes on them.
“What do you want from me, Ryan O’Connor? Because let’s face it, I don’t think I’m your type. Are you just looking for a bit of fun? A few fucks, no strings attached?”
“I don’t know what I’m looking for. All I know is that whatever it is, it’s right here.”
She looks at me for a few moments, her head tilted, then she smiles again, one corner of her mouth turned upwards.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t last another second without putting my hands all over you.”
“Like…what?” she says, feigning innocence.
“Like you can’t wait for me to be inside you.”
She bites down on her lip again.
“You know, Ryan O’Connor, for someone who doesn’t like talking, you’re doing a bit too much of it at the moment.”
